


Of Fortuna and Luck

by Holycowbrowniekitty



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Host Clubs, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-23 03:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11980803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holycowbrowniekitty/pseuds/Holycowbrowniekitty
Summary: Sengoku works as a host under a name borrowed from an old tennis rival. Things are going smooth, life is a luxury, girls a plenty, until the rival finds out. And hell breaks loose.





	Of Fortuna and Luck

“Kojirou, I don’t really care what you do outside of your studies, but please prevent your girlfriends from coming over!”

Saeki took up the call, expecting another desperate attempt from Aoi to take him to mixers, but was instead met by the voice of an angry woman, who was berating him on his love life despite having none of it at the moment.

“Girlfriends? What do you mean sis?”

“The past week, three of these trashy looking bitches have come to the front door, asking for a certain SK. I can still smell their rotten perfumes,” she practically yelled.

Saeki tried to get his thoughts in order. He had been holed up the past two weeks, working and studying for his engineering finals, and the related project. He currently resided in Tokyo, as the commute from Chiba took a toll on his health. And while some lady customers flirted with him on his part time job, he could not imagine any of them tracking down his house address, especially when he was not there at the moment.

“I’ve not come out of my room for at least two weeks, except for the bar,” Saeki replied hazily.

“Maybe that’s the reason they’re coming. At least keep your social life separate from your work life and they won’t come hounding us every single time of the fucking day.”

Saeki winced at the harsh language his sister was using. He thought about which one of the older ladies would do something like that, and frankly, none of them seemed like the type. If he was really honest, some of them probably wouldn’t make it to the Saeki household, as it was on an incline in a higher levelled district.

“Can you describe what they look like?” Saeki asked his sister, yawning a bit because of the lack of sleep.

“They? So you’re really banging more of them at once!?”

“Just for reference.”

He heard his sister huff from the other side of the phone. “Well, for one, they all have those weird outfits, and they practically stink of prostitution, bluntly said. “

“Sorry sis, don’t know them,” Saeki said. Despite the bar he was working at being close to the Kabuchiko district, he never saw any of their regulars show up, simply because the bar prided itself on its classy image.

“Whatever it is, do something about it!” she yelled one last time before smashing the phone down. She was quite angry.

He’d ask the manager if there was any suspicious activity going on. His recent bartending job was not only perfect for him; you’d need the dexterity, the social skills and the looks for it; it also paid well and allowed him to rent an above average student flat, which was soundproof and large enough to put his projects in motion.

What a pain. But whatever it was, it must’ve been a misunderstanding.

* * *

 

“Checking in,” Saeki said as he walked through the backdoor of the bar. The alleyway was everything but what the front provided, which was decked out in a classy way. At his day shifts, he’d work as some kind of patron for non- or low-alcoholic drinks, while at night he’d get taught about the work of a full bar, which included mixing cocktails and providing a listening ear to the abundance of ladies that would pass their time away from home.

He made sure that his bowtie was in place before he entered the kitchen. Even if he thought so himself, a dashing appearance should go combined with dashing clothes. He saw the manager, a thin middle-aged man stocking the fridge and nodded in acknowledgement, walking past.

“Boss, can I ask you something?” Saeki said. “Lately, have there been people asking for me in particular?”

His boss glared at him. “If you mean anyone besides your Chiba friends, no, not that I know off, aside from the usual ladies. Did you get into any trouble?”

“Oh, nothing of the like,” Saeki replied. It was all very mysterious to him, but he decided to not pursue the matter any longer. “Must’ve been my imagination.”

At the bar, he decided to be a bit more cautious about his environment. He counted the regulars and the newcomers of the establishment every time, just to gauge his workload, and was in charge of opening the bar, which usually wasn’t accessible until around the evening. Customers could still order the drinks from their seats that were strewn across the public room.

The day passed by quietly without all too much suspicious activity. Taking a well deserved break in the back alley, Saeki took a sip from his water. Ironically, he didn’t really like alcohol that much, although he was able to stomach it fairly well compared to his lightweight friends Aoi and Itsuki. He wondered what they would be up to, one working as a mascot at Disney World and the other taking over the restaurant of his dad.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw two scarcely clothed women fussing at the entrance of the alleyway. Those types seemed to hang out around the district, but they never caused any trouble or  tarnished the name of their establishment, so Saeki paid them no mind.

That is, until they came up to him.

“Hey, do you work at this bar here?” they asked him. Saeki stood up and nodded.

“Yeah, can I help you?”

“Uhm, yeah, like, does Saeki Kojirou work here?”

Saeki glanced them over. He had never seen the girls before, neither at his college or even at the parties they held. They also looked a fair bit older than him, although that could’ve been due to the sloppy applying of the makeup.

“I’m Saeki, why do you ask?”

The girls stared for a while before they started fussing between themselves.

“Are you sure you’re Saeki?” one of them asked. The other smacked her from behind.

“I do believe I’m Saeki,” Saeki said, showing his name card that was shuffled in his outfit.

“Sorry for bothering you,” they said, before they scurried off.

“Ah, wait!” Saeki yelled, but they had already disappeared between the Tokyo crowd. He suspected that this must’ve been the reason why his sister was pissed off at him.

Hurrying back inside, he asked the manager if he could keep an eye out for the people that asked for him.

“Oh, while you were on your break, a woman asked for you,” the boss said, “a lanky, pimped up woman, blonde hair, definitely dyed.”

None of the lights in Saeki’s head seemed to light up.

“She’s waiting for you at the bar,” he said, motioning towards the public room.

Saeki nodded and took off. Opening the kitchen door, he found her sitting there, waiting in anticipation, but she didn’t seem to pay any attention towards Saeki.

“Good day miss, can I help you?” he asked friendly.

“I asked the staff earlier if there was a Saeki Kojirou working here?” she replied. Her nails were well polished but absurdly long and the purse she kept on her lap was gaudily decorated with all kinds of crystals.

“That would be me, miss,” Saeki answered.

He saw her giving him the same glance as the two ladies outside gave him. Flashing his card, her expression visibly shrunk. “Oh, I apologize. I’ll take my leave.”

“Miss, can I ask you why you searched for me?” Saeki dared asking.

“It was just a mix up with another person called Saeki, don’t worry about it dear,  I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

“I see. Would you mind telling me who the other Saeki is? I think things might have gotten a bit rowdy at my home because the Saeki you’re talking about might have given the wrong contact information,” Saeki tried.

“I’m sorry, that information is confidential,” the woman apologized sheepishly. “But,” she said, observing Saeki, “Club Fortuna seems like it could use a handsome man like you,” she said, before hurriedly stepping away from the counter and making her way outside.

Chasing after her would not have been proper etiquette, so he stayed put. The manager came behind him with some bottles of gin and whispered: “They’re those darn prostitutes again from Kabuchiko. What do they think this is, a host club?”

“Host club? Like club Fortuna?” Saeki asked.

“Yeah, those establishments with the pretty boys were people go to get drunk,” the boss replied.

“Ah, those. Are they that popular with those kind of ladies?”

“Yeah, they can get pretty obsessive about them. I think she must have mistaken this club because you looked all handsome behind the counter,” the man said.

“No matter how you look at it, this doesn’t seem like a trashy place at all, boss,” Saeki replied.

“Host clubs in general look very clean you know, it’s just that they add more glamour to hide the disgusting things that go on backstage,” the boss continued. “Anyway, please focus on serving for now, kay?”

Saeki nodded and made a mental note. Maybe the answer to his identity problem would lie in the red light district. It was not Saeki’s kind of place, but he did not have anything valuable on him, and he wasn’t going to stay for long anyway.

* * *

 

The night was lively on the streets of Kabukicho. As he suspected, the area seemed to carry a never ending dream atmosphere, blocking out the less pleasant noises and smells. The neon lights flashed through the dark sky, and Saeki was careful not to intrude on groups of drunken salary men stampeding throughout the main street.

He almost regretted wasting his time by touring the host clubs, but he insisted on finding out about this mysterious Saeki. Club Fortuna was supposed to be an underground host club, but the website itself gave iffy details and only provided the location. That would have to do.

Standing in front of the building, he could smell the alcohol behind the doors. He saw no one attending, so he descended the stairs and hoped that he could talk to the proprietor. Pushing open the doors, he found himself in a long, narrow hallway, with spots in the floor. The walls were lined with pictures of photo shoots of the hosts, something to give customers a preview of while they made their way to the actual club. Saeki could have sworn that one of them looked familiar, but wrote it off to the bad lightning and his paranoid mind.

Turning a corner, he came face to face with the actual entry desk. A stylish guy sat at the front, browsing the internet in a cramped cubicle. Saeki coughed.

“H-huh? Oh, hey, what are you doing here?” the guy asked. “We’re not accepting recruits now.”

“I’m here to ask about your hosts actually,” Saeki replied.

“Sorry, but this ain’t a gay bar. And if you have beef with one of our hosts, please take it outside.”

“I just wanted to ask if the name Saeki Kojirou sounds familiar to you?”

The man scratched his head and slumped back in his chair. “Saeki? Why do you need to know that? You a cop?”

“Not really, but I have to talk things over with him.”

“Yeah, get out already or bring a lady,” the man said. He couldn’t be bothered to get one of the highest paid hosts to exchange empty words with a random pretty boy. As he leaned away, the door opened to reveal a couple, presumably a host and his client, walking outside. The pair was happily chatting, and the woman’s laughing voice made Saeki turn.

Somehow, the orange curly hair seemed familiar to him. His body acted before his mind and trailed the couple, pretending to leave the establishment.

Outside, he saw the man bidding the woman goodbye, kissing her hand as she stepped in the taxi on the main road. The way he looked, his face and his posture were so overly familiar, but he couldn’t quite place his tongue on it. The two curls on the top, the high pitched friendly voice and his...malleable face.

“Hey, you,” Saeki called out. The man turned around and looked at him. His eyelids were droopy, and he seemed a little drunk, but he looked down to earth.

“Hm? Me?” the man asked.

“Yeah you. I know you from somewhere,” Saeki said. “Have we met?”

The man looked at him a few times. Saeki wasn’t sure if he was looking at anything in particular, but if he was going to play the staring game, so would he. After a few seconds, the man got visibly uncomfortable.

“I just want to know who you are,” Saeki asked. “I mean, if you want to be as kind as to tell your name.”

Suddenly the man took off Saeki was startled by the sudden change of his face, and watched him holler back into the host cave.

“Hey, wait!”

Saeki gave chase and almost tripped over the stairs. It took him a bit longer than the other man, but he had realized the identity of the other as well. Upon encountering the cubicle, he rushed past, ignoring the protesting yells of the porter. Slamming the door open, he found himself subjected to the stare of many glamorous ladies and men, in a golden lit room with an abundance of alcohol, or so he could smell. Despite one of the staff members approaching him, he surveyed the room until he could mark the orange curl sticking out of what appeared to be an isolated booth.

“Sengoku!” he yelled as he charged through the crowd. The bouncers of the place were already pulling his arms, but Saeki continued trotting on with all of the little power he had.

“Sengoku, I know you’re there!” he yelled as he saw the orange curl moving a bit sideways. His efforts were lost, as the bouncers managed to pull him outside and pull him up the stairs, despite the protests of Saeki.

“Hey, don’t pull on my shirt like that, it’s new!”

“Get out brat before we’ll make you a new one,” one of them threatened. He was significantly bigger, angrier and more monstrous looking than Bane, and Bane could be scary. He pulled Saeki up by his collar, from his new shirt, and held his fist close to Saeki’s face.

“O-okay, please just not the face, I still need that,” Saeki begged.

The man let out a gruff before throwing Saeki to the ground, narrowly missing a biker who was returning home after his visit at the love hotel. Trying to move his back, he looked up to see that the bodyguard had already disappeared in the building.

“Great,” he said, feeling the wetness seep through back shirt. He’d have some talking to do with Sengoku later on, but if he didn’t want to get robbed of whatever organs he had, he should leave the district until it became too late. He would return. And take his revenge.

But first he needed to get home and finish reporting his progress to his counsellor.

 

 


End file.
